


Hold That Thought

by Thealmostrhetoricalquestion



Series: Rarepair Bingo [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Partners, Crushes, F/F, Mild Language, Stakeout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 06:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14611821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion/pseuds/Thealmostrhetoricalquestion
Summary: The Aurors don’t want Pansy, but Pansy doesn’t care. Pansy wants to show the world that she’s more than the scared child she had been during the war, and joining the Aurors seems like the best way to do thatandpiss off her mother at the same time.





	Hold That Thought

**Author's Note:**

> Pansy/Daphne/Ginny, which as not as fleshed out as I'd like because word limit, for the prompts Stakeout and Hair Pulling (possibly?). I don't know, I tried. 
> 
> Thank you! <3

The Aurors don’t want Pansy, but Pansy doesn’t care. Pansy wants to show the world that she’s more than the scared child she had been during the war, and joining the Aurors seems like the best way to do that and piss off her mother at the same time. 

“You’ll be back within a week,” her mother says, sniffing derisively as Pansy packs the last of her belongings into a sleek black case. 

Four years in, and Pansy still feels smug whenever she darkens her mother’s parlour. 

She doesn’t feel quite as smug, perched on the rooftop of a tall building in Islington, with Ginny Weasley and Daphne Greengrass at her side. Ginny is munching on crisps as obnoxiously loudly as possible, aware that it annoys Pansy, her feet tipped up onto the rim of the roof, her camping chair bent back on two legs. Daphne is less obnoxious, bobbing her head to the music playing quietly out of the small wireless she’d brought along, but she still quite clearly isn’t paying any attention. 

Pansy loves them both, but right now she hates them. 

“You do know that this is a stakeout, don't you?” Pansy says. She has a strict dental healthcare routine, and she won’t ruin it by grinding her teeth together, despite desperately wanting to. 

Daphne smiles at her, that smile from when they were small, that smile that said _hush, or I’ll tell mother you were being unkind again._ Pansy hates that smile, hates how much she wants to kiss it. 

Ginny swallows a mouthful of ready salted crisps and says, “You do know that we’ve done literally a hundred stakeouts together, don't you? And that this is a low risk operation. We don't have evidence, and if the guy does fly away, I’m ready. We’re literally just watching to see if he does anything suspicious.”

“Except that you’re not watching, you’re stuffing your face,” Pansy says, rolling her eyes and fiddling with the omnioculars in her hands. The dials stick sometimes; she needs a new one, but she can’t be arsed to go through the faff down at the office to explain why. They rarely give her what she wants anyway. 

“Stop fussing,” Daphne says, turning up the volume on her wireless. “Let me braid your hair.”

Pansy makes an exasperated noise, but lets Daphne tug her hair out of its ponytail. She’s been meaning to cut it for a while, to get a sharp bob, but she doesn’t know if Daphne will still run her fingers through the thin strands if she can’t braid it, and so she’s reluctant to go too short. 

Ginny watches them, amused, as she folds the crisp packet into a tiny square. Her hands are not delicate things; they’re rough, from handling brooms and wands, and she never uses lotions or potions, so they’re always chapped and bleeding near the nails. Pansy still wants them on her, though. She wants to feel that roughness against her smooth skin. 

They’ve been partners for two years, all three of them, which sounds impossible and sometimes is. It’s worth it, though, for the way that Daphne proudly displays the photograph of the three of them on her mantlepiece, framed in silver. 

The man they’re watching closes his curtains, and Pansy sighs, lowering the omnioculars. Ginny passes her a can of something fizzy and cold in consolation, and Daphne strokes fingers across her scalp, soothing. They know how she gets. They know there’s a chance at a promotion a little further down the line, and they know she wants, badly, to prove herself. 

Not to the world. Pansy doesn’t give a fuck about the world anymore, and what it thinks of her. If she can prove herself to Daphne, to Ginny, then maybe they won’t laugh her away when she asks what she wants to ask. Maybe they’ll think warmly of her instead, of all the nights spent making paper planes together out of paperwork and being crammed together in cars on chilly nights, and sitting on rooftops with just each other for company. 

“Something wrong, Pansy?” Ginny asks, narrowing her eyes. Daphne hums in agreement, sounding concerned, and Pansy wipes whatever expression was on her face away swiftly.

“Don't do that,” Daphne says, tugging on her hair. A sound escapes Pansy; she has a thing for people pulling her hair, and Daphne knows this, the cow. She grins at Pansy and then says, “Tell us what’s wrong.”

“You can always tell us anything,” Ginny says, and her voice is light, but her eyes are serious, full of fiery heat. 

Pansy knows that. But can she tell them about this, about all the ways in which she loves them?

She opens her mouth, choking back fear - Pansy Parkinson is not a scared child anymore, but she can feel fear in front of these two - but before she can speak, there’s a bang from across the street as their suspect opens the window. 

“He’s moving,” Ginny says, her sharp eyes fixed on the man. They watch as he hops on a broom and slips out of the window, the curtains billowing behind him, and Pansy curses. “And that’s my cue.”

She grabs her broom and Daphne moves away, already casting protection spells. Pansy feels the words die on her lips. 

Before she can pick up her own wand, she catches Ginny sharing a look with Daphne, and she frowns at them. Ginny swings one leg over the broom, turns to look at Pansy, and grins before taking off. 

Pansy blinks at Daphne, who smiles at her warmly. This smile is different to her usual one. 

“What did that mean?” Pansy snaps, feeling strangely fragile. 

“It means that whatever was on your mind,” Daphne says, with a wink, “hold that thought.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you! <3


End file.
